


Darkside.

by ladymdc



Series: Rhack Attack 🥊 [13]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: (and healing Siren jizz), Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Dom/sub Undertones, Handsome Jack is an asshole but he's Trying(TM), M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder Husbands, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Siren Rhys (Borderlands), Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymdc/pseuds/ladymdc
Summary: It all started with a secret not yet shared. One that nearly destroyed them both before it saved them.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Series: Rhack Attack 🥊 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790767
Comments: 30
Kudos: 92





	1. Even in the dark times.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruins/gifts).



> for a wonderful friend & support system. Not to mention the gracious CEO of our discord server ✨
> 
> So, sometimes I see a prompt & my brain goes "how can I make this as complicated as humanly possible" & then I do just that. The prompt in question ~~Rhys comes on Jack's mask-less face & heals the Vault scar~~ won't actually be fulfilled until the final chapter. 
> 
> The inspo song for this work & what I'll use to title the chapters: [Darkside](https://open.spotify.com/track/4eWXbtPaON5F63Wtl4ZGsq?si=3f9NHRnwSP-ZtXT-l5HVRw) (Sam Tinnesz)

Rhys gritted his teeth and pressed forward.

It hurt. It hurt a hell of a lot. The pain in his shoulder was laughable in comparison. Hilarious even. But Rhys did not let up. Blood began to trickly warmly down the side of his face. 

He grunted and slightly rotated the shard of glass, wedging it against his port to pry it out. As metal began to break away from flesh, tension shot through the thick cables woven throughout his skull.

The aura of blue in the room cut out, bathing Rhys in darkness. Then came back online. 

As Jack started to panic, Rhys started to smile. 

This was not Rhys’ first glimpse of that dark thing that lurked within him, that terrible piece of himself that fed on power and other people’s pain and fear. But after the past several hours, Rhys could not bring himself to give a damn.

The pain in his head was increasing. He could feel that his port was on the verge of breaking free. It just needed— 

—Rhys grabbed hold and jerked it out. Blood spattered against the back of this throat. 

“Please… Hey!”

Rhys placed the shard against his implant, bracing himself. Then stabbed it into his eye. 

“HEY! I’m on my knees here. Please don’t send me back there. It’s not like they say.” The blue tones of Jack’s hologram flickered and glitched out of sync with his voice. 

Something in Rhys’ eye gave, and his vision became one-sided.

“There’s nothing— there’s absolutely nothing there. Don’t do this.”

Jack begging, literally on his knees nonetheless, alone made this all worth it. Rhys’ chuckle turned into a weak cough thanks to the unending, growing pain as he tore his cybernetics from his skull. 

He paused like that, letting the tattered remains of his ECHOeye hang on by a thread, and weighed his options. 

Jack considered himself the victim here. Which implied that he did not want any of this to happen. Which meant his desire to kill Rhys, and thus himself, was merely a means to some other end. Namely, that Jack had meant what he said: he was not going to allow Rhys to leave him. Layered on top of the admission that he had been betrayed by everyone he ever cared about made all of this pretty clear. However, Rhys suspected Jack did not even register it as such. 

“I am sorry, but not letting you all the way in wasn’t personal,” Rhys said. The words were vaguely slurred, giving the sentence an irregular lilt as though his mouth would not quite cooperate with him. “I just— don’t trust anyone to know what I really am.”

His power surged through him. It was like lightning touching every cell in his body as it traveled down his spine. Burning as it reached his tattoos and lit them up hotter than a star, strong and powerful and infinite. Rhys winced as he felt his eye begin to repair itself, but then the pain eased somewhat as his vision corrected and his cyberware slid back into place. However, he would be feeling phantom pains from this for  _ years.  _

Jack had a faintly dazed expression, as though he were in shock, and this time Rhys succeeded in laughing. A low, dark sound that crept from the back of his throat; he could still taste the blood on his tongue. In that moment, Rhys did not bother lying to himself. He had learned the hard way that most people had a monster inside them. Decent people got scared when it lurched to the surface, but Jack had successfully broken that piece of him over the course of the evening. 

Rhys knew what he wanted, and he knew he could get it. 

And Jack simply had a decision of his own to make. 

“I’ll give you one more chance because I guess you’re right,” Rhys said, standing; voice steady and even once again. “We’re not so different. But I promise you, if you betray me again, I will win every time.” 

He retrieved his prosthetic. An involuntary shudder ran down his spine as the nerves in his shoulder lashed back together with the artificial ones housed in the base. Rhys habitually curled and uncurled his metal fingers before unleashing the full extent of his powers. It surrounded his entire body like a halo, wrapping him in its embrace, then spread outward. His wings emerged, and he lifted from the ground. 

The force of his power thrummed through the air, a steady counterpoint to the chaotic reversal of time. Jack retreated into the recesses of his mind. Rhys could actually _ feel him _ butting up against that door he refused to let Jack pass. Given the surprise reality-bending powers and all, Rhys could understand the reaction, but Jack was intangible. He was currently part of Rhys, and it was with that knowledge he let the deep golden light bathing the room turn blinding white.

Then Rhys was standing back in Jack’s pristine, albeit poorly decorated office as if nothing had happened.

Obviously, it had been far more dramatic than that, but it always felt a little anticlimactic from his perspective. Considering what he had just accomplished, Rhys vaguely hoped one of the Hyperion satellites managed to record it, but he could not bring himself to really care one way or the other. 

He was drained, and he was depleted. Rhys had pushed himself farther than he ever had before, but he had succeeded. He had built back up what they had together destroyed. The lives lost… that was still what it was. Rhys had done what was necessary, and he sure as hell would do it again. 

The whole room wobbled, and he placed a hand on the desk to keep himself upright just as Jack flickered into view.

“I’m going to pass out now,” Rhys breathed. “But when I wake back up, we should probably have a conversation about this.”

His knees gave out before he could get to the chair or just preemptively get down on the floor. Jack, strangely enough, tried to catch him? Or strangle him. He could not be sure because, as always, Jack’s hands passed right through him. 

Rhys cracked his head on the marble floor. He would have to live with that one because it knocked him out cold.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Coming to sprawled out on the ground with an intense headache should not be something Rhys was used to, but hey, there he was. 

He exhaled, acknowledging the tightness throughout the entire length of his cybernetics and hoped it was not a long-lasting thing. Then mentally progressed to the usual: taking a full inventory of himself. However, Jack’s voice cut into his awareness before he could even get started. 

“Hey there, sunshine. Glad to feel that mind of yours perk back up.”

It made Rhys pry his eyes open before he was ready, and he did so a little too quickly. He winced at the sudden rush of light, vision blurring as his eyes struggled to focus.

Jack was squatting down, and the way he looked at Rhys was not something that could be remotely mistaken as ‘glad.’ His expression was closed and tight. Guarded. It was nothing like he had ever seen from Jack. But Rhys was too tired and sore to stop and consider it— until what had happened finally broke free and surged up through the fog. 

The betrayal, tearing out his cybernetics and using his abilities, blacking out, and then a little something extra because, of course, some head trauma would not be enough. That door, that one in the back of his mind he was hellbent on keeping Jack out of, was cracked. 

Rhys let his eyes slide shut and swallowed. 

He wanted a shower. He was thirsty and hungry. He wanted to wrap himself up in a blanket and collapse into bed for a day or two. 

He did not want to not worry about the numbness trickling into his prosthetic. It was not exactly a sense of disconnect that Rhys was feeling. At least, not yet. 

More like a warning. 

Either way, it was still a terrifying sensation. A reminder Rhys, yet again, had something inside him that he could not control or will away. Rhys wished he knew why he had thought they could course correct if he went out of his goddamn way to prove Jack wrong. 

“Can you just—” Rhys sighed. “At least give me a few minutes before we start again.”

“Fuck off, Rhys. I’m not looking for round two.”

He flinched faintly as he lost control of his arm. However, Jack only began to push him off the floor. Rhys shifted a bit, managing to get his other arm underneath himself. The tinge of gratitude he felt toward Jack for his assistance was annoying. 

“I realize you consider me a total monster,” Jack continued flatly, “but I do make a general habit of keeping my word.”

“That’s funny.” Rhys stretched his legs out and leaned heavily against the desk. “I clearly remember that not being the case.”

“That’s your fault for lying to me. I didn’t know that I could trust you. Not after how quickly you were willing to take everything I ever sacrificed for as if it never fucking mattered.” 

There was a long silence in which Rhys just stared up at him. 

Jack shook his head slightly and looked away, over to the photo of Angel. His eyes wouldn’t stay; his gaze moved on.

After everything, Rhys did not know where to start. He would not make excuses or try to justify himself. Doing so would only set Jack off. Plus, if this was flipped around, Rhys would reject that bullshit outright too. Especially since offering him Hyperion like that had clearly been a test of loyalty. One Rhys had epically failed as his ambition and greed got the better of him. Eventually, he settled on apologizing. It was all Rhys could sincerely offer anyway. 

“I am sorry about that.”

He looked back at Rhys. “Well, there’s that at least.” Jack gave a bitter smirk for a moment before growing cold again.

“Can you at least acknowledge  _ we _ are back where it all started, and not just me?”

“Right. So this is the part where you try to convince me that you were on my side the whole time.” 

Rhys gave a low sigh and let his head fall back. There were things people actually believed, and then there were things people accepted because it was convenient. But which was which did not always matter. For some, blurring those things together was easier than facing the truth. 

“I’m not going to waste our time. I’m on my side, not yours, just like you are. But that doesn’t mean they can’t or don’t already align,” Rhys told him. “If that isn’t what you want any more, or if you still don’t trust my motives, then… I guess we might as well just get this over with.”

Jack was silent for several seconds, then he gave a low laugh. It was almost a scoff. 

“That’s rich coming from someone who can literally go back and do it all over again and again until he gets the outcome he wants. How do you even fucking exist?”

“I have no idea. I was incredibly hungover one morning in college, eating cereal—”

“Watching your favorite Saturday morning cartoons and looking for the prize in the box,” Jack put in snidely. 

Rhys exhaled in amusement. “Definitely,” he said, and Jack’s lips twitched into a smile, just for a moment. 

“Anyway, the next thing I knew.” Rhys gave a smooth shrug. “It doesn’t make any sense, but what about Vaults or Sirens or any of it does?”

Jack’s tense expression eased as though he could not quite maintain it. He made a sound of assent. “Did you puke on the floor? I hope you puked on the floor.” 

“I puked in my cereal bowl, and it, like, splashed all over me and the floor.”

“That’s even better, pumpkin.”

“I’m glad that makes you feel better,” Rhys said.

The corner of Jack’s mouth ticked up again, and he looked over at Rhys. His gaze seemed softer and darker; it seemed familiar.

“And to clarify things, we didn’t actually go back in time,” Rhys said. “That’s not how it works. It’s like reversing it in pockets. I can undo injuries or make a busted car as good as new.” 

“Or a space station,” Jack supplied.

“Apparently.”

“Apparently? Princess, I know you knocked your head on the floor pretty hard there, but we are definitely back up in the sky like nothing happened.”

“I know. I am just trying to wrap my head around it still. I honestly didn’t know if I could manage it. I only think I was able to because this office is like the heart of it? But all of those people that died when it went down—” Rhys’ voice faded for a moment. 

“I can’t bring people back, and anyone that survived the crash and got caught up in the reversal wouldn’t have survived much longer. Odds are, we are the only living things left on this station. It’s also probably a disaster where it’s less connected like in the residential towers because everything that actually happened still happened.” Rhys clenched his jaw and glanced away. “I can only learn from it going forward. Just like everyone else.” 

“Did this just turn into a lecture?”

“Would it make a difference if it did?”

Jack made a face. “Absolutely not.” 

The corner of Rhys’ mouth quirked upward, and he let the tentative relief that this was over finally settle in. 

“But you know what,” Jack continued thoughtfully. “At least all of this explains that freakishly high pain tolerance of yours.”

Rhys couldn’t stop his lips from cracking into a smile. “It is pretty bad, isn’t it?” 

“Seriously, it was more than a little alarming, cupcake. Are you just used to it now? Maybe even a little into it? That why you’re not doing anything about that huge ass bump on your dome?” 

“Some things are easier to live with than others,” he replied honestly. 

At that, Jack smirked faintly and looked away, out the window toward Pandora. Toward the reason Rhys was here in the first place. It had been a calling, something that came with his powers. Something he had not been able to ignore any more than he could that draw toward Jack. 

Two birds, one stone, Rhys supposed. 

The following silence was companionable. Rhys was not sure how or why that occurred, exactly, but he was grateful for it. After a bit, Jack glanced his direction, but with none of the traces of sharpness or doubt from before.

Jack studied him, and Rhys took advantage of the opportunity to do the same. There was something about Jack. In his gaze. Something that only reinforced Rhys’ belief that the sarcasm and jokes and the dismissive quality of his attention had been all an act. 

“I’m still in this if you are, kitten,” Jack said after a moment.

Rhys nodded. This would be, he suspected, a tremendous leap of faith for both of them. Up until now, it had felt like a balance of power they were unwilling to trust and eager to shift. However, Jack didn’t just rise to the top. He had paid his way in blood, and now, well, Rhys could say the same. 

They were both drenched in it. 


	2. Do you love me?

It had taken a bit for Jack to trust their separation, and even longer for Rhys to trust that complex interconnection between them. But now, when Jack was not with him, stillness ran through his veins. It was a type of quiet Rhys did not dislike, but one that felt off when applied to Jack. 

There was still comfort and joy and frustration. There was even peace to be found in it. But it was only his. Things Rhys shared with Jack after the fact, and only if he wanted to, as he would with anyone else because Jack never did cross into the deepest part of his mind. Nor had he ever asked to again. 

However, Rhys had left that door open, wide open, in fact, and Jack was just a now-familiar presence brushing up against his consciousness. Like light or noise pouring into a dark, quiet room. Sometimes grief burned through his chest, or a searing, choking anger that did not belong to him. Rhys saw pieces of memories that were not his: a dim, enclosed space that seemed to close in around him, a small bed made with military precision, and a boy crying. Desperate yelling, mechanical shots ripping through the air. And then they were his memories too. 

No one knew about this back and forth arrangement. It was another secret kept between them. Beyond that, the lines were blurred. It was safer this way— for both of them. 

Rhys was defaulted to as the CEO on a technicality. It kept things stable. But really, his potential in the position was grossly overshadowed by Jack’s pure efficiency when he was uploaded into Helios. Still, they were in this together, and Rhys did everything he could because of it. 

After all, Hyperion was a mega-corporation. One that had needed to reclaim its place at the top of the Supreme Seven. There was always something to do or some way Rhys could help. He knew what it took to run Hyperion down to the minutiae even if Jack handled a bulk of that while he wrangled the public side of things. Rhys had a softer, more charming approach that was deliberate in its manipulation, but it worked, as did their partnership. While occasional discontent crossed Rhys’ mind, voicing it never did.

Thus, being given Atlas to revive as a subsidiary had been unexpected but not unwelcome. Rhys knew Jack was doing his best to please him in one of the few ways he knew how. Of course, Jack had still gone through the motions of antagonizing Rhys by dismissing the gesture as an indulgence he did not expect anything out of. 

Hearing that from an outsider, a Maliwan representative in their own goddamn space station nonetheless, was a completely different situation. 

He and Jack stopped walking simultaneously; their guest took another two steps before swiveling back toward Rhys, looking faintly bemused. 

“Is something wrong?”

“What the fuck did this pissant just say to you?” The glint in Jack’s eyes as he glared at Katagawa was manic.

“I’m sorry,” Rhys said, then paused to smile thinly. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Come on, Rhys!” Katagawa said, laughing. “What you are doing with Atlas— you’ve already managed incredible research and new patents. Just think of what you could accomplish without having to babysit a temperamental AI for Hyperion.”

Jack only let out a harsh laugh, but Rhys could feel him starting to press into his mind.

“That’s not what’s happening here,” Rhys defended. “At all.” 

“Rhys. Buddy… it’s all right. We’re in the hanger. He can’t listen in here, even if he wanted to. He doesn’t care about you as long as you do what you’re told and don’t get in the way. Everyone knows it.” Katagawa took a step closer. “But you and me…”

He reached out and brushed imaginary dust from Rhys’ shirt. Fingertips passing dangerously close to the exposed ridges of his tattoos. 

It was almost a relief when Jack’s rage swelled quickly and with no warning, mirroring Rhys’ own displeasure at the contact. He was not even remotely alarmed when his prosthetic shot out and grabbed Katagawa by the throat. In fact, Rhys was more than happy to help Jack along in the matter. Before Katagawa could even react, Rhys took that one necessary step forward and braced himself so Jack could slam him into the wall.

Katagawa’s perfect hair tumbled down into his eyes. His pupils dilated as his gaze locked onto Rhys’ in a way that was… unsettling. 

The feeling registered, and instantaneously, Rhys saw his metal fingers flex. 

The tendons in Katagawa’s neck started straining, his face turning red with exertion. Rhys dug his nails into his palm as he tried to keep Jack’s anger from leaking out more than it already was. 

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he said, teeth flashing. “I am—  _ exactly— _ where I want to be.”

At that, Jack’s dominating presence immediately lessened. Rhys jerked his hand away and stepped back. He had no desire to be that close without a reason.

“Even though the grounds for this meeting was clearly bullshit, our agreement will remain in place,” Rhys allowed. 

After a beat, Katagawa flashed a grin, big and wide and clearly pleased. “Of course,” he agreed, standing straight and running his hands through his dark hair to smooth it back into place. The soldiers nearby, Hyperion and Maliwan alike, finally lowered their weapons. 

“I’m not interested in causing problems for Hyperion. Obviously,” Katagawa continued as if in confidence. As though they were equals or friends. “But whenever you finally wake up and realize you deserve better than this, you’re more than welcome to come work with me at Maliwan.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Noted,” he said, then turned on his heel. “Now, get off my space station, and stay the hell away from me, Katagawa.”

The flicker of blue light never came.

Rhys could feel an undercurrent of turmoil in addition to his own. What happened had unsettled and disturbed Jack. 

It did not take Rhys long to conclude that this one incident could topple everything they had built together. 

Back in their office, Rhys collapsed onto the sofa in the reading nook and pressed his hands into his eyes. Ever since he tore his cybernetics out, stress always made his head hurt. 

“Well, kitten, I hate to say it, but—“

“Then don’t,” Rhys said before taking in that carefully even expression, the one Jack wore when he was restraining himself. Which, Rhys appreciated, but right now… 

The corner of Rhys’ mouth twitched, and he looked away. 

He wanted to hook into Helios so they could separate. Rhys wanted to go and try to make sense of why he was so upset but did not know how to bring it up without potentially making this worse. 

“I know I made a mistake. I really don’t need to hear you say it.”

A Maliwan cruiser had gotten too close to one of their deep space mining operations and was appropriately and justifiably removed from the vicinity. Wasting a few hours of his time was more cost-effective than skirmishing on the outskirts of Thrace indefinitely; over palladium, of all things. 

Jack had said it was a setup and that Rhys would live to regret trying to smooth it over, and what a surprise, the King of the Universe was right. 

“But, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” Rhys continued.

“Don’t be because at least now we know what he was really after,” he countered, being surprisingly rational, for Jack. “And. Given that, do you honestly think this douche canoe wouldn’t have tried to corner you like that some other way, some other time?” 

Jack was right, and Rhys knew it. But all he could think about was how angry Jack had been. 

“And what he suggested? You know I wouldn’t, right?”

His expression hardened, and his mouth twitched as though he was hesitating. “I think that it’s time I come back,” Jack said. 

For a moment, Rhys didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything. The delay was not his fault. It was not intentional. Even with the accelerant, growing a clone to the target age took months. Then no matter what the scientists or surgeons or even Rhys did, the scar kept coming back. They had tried and tried until the clone was basically damaged, and they had to start over. Before they knew it, a year had passed. 

Abrupt as it was, Jack’s decision to live with it should have been fine. This arrangement was always supposed to be temporary. But, Rhys felt betrayed. 

That it was his own fault yet again did not matter. It just made it sting more being self-aware this time around.

“Alright,” Rhys said evenly. “I think we should talk about giving you more complex cyberware though. You’ve been integrating with Helios for so long now I think you’d—” 

_ “Rhys,” _ Jack said, and he had to close his eyes against the tone of it. It did not just sound like Jack meant it; it sounded like he regretted—  _ everything.  _

“I don’t care about that right now. I just need you to look at me.”

Of course, Rhys obliged. How could he not? And he barely caught that  _ look _ in Jack’s eyes before his hologram broke apart. 

The room illuminated. Rhys was suspended amid thousands upon thousands of shimmering lines of complex code.

Absently, he took it all in, trying to work out where this was headed. All it did was make Rhys wonder if this was it. If everything— his own emotional components, his memories, and intelligence— could be detailed out so thoroughly. 

“Is this what it looks like in my head?”

“In a way. The color is different.”

“I always imagine it as a dark room.”

Jack’s chuckle surrounded him, slid down his spine like a tangible thing. “Of course, you would,” Jack said, “but no, much to my surprise at the time, it’s not empty in there, sunshine. I promise.”

Rhys reached out and ran his finger through his name. It was part of a memory, something innocuous and insignificant. Something Rhys had forgotten about until now. They had been discussing work, and Rhys got distracted and burned the ever-loving fuck out of his grilled cheese sandwich. Jack had made fun of him; Rhys had eaten it out of spite. 

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me,” Rhys admitted.

“Let me in,” Jack said, “it’ll be easier that way.”

Rhys’ hand wavered. Something heavy hung in the air, and Rhys took a breath that felt like a lifeline. He no longer worried about being shut out. He worried about something else entirely. 

His heart was pounding. In one impossibly graceful movement, the code condensed, and Jack rematerialized. He sat on the low table in front of him. There was something intense in his expression; Rhys felt pinned by his gaze. 

It was that same predatory look Katagawa had given him, but coming from Jack… 

“I haven’t been keeping you out,” Rhys told him. 

Jack smirked faintly. “I know.” 

The intrusion was not painful, but insistent, uncomfortable even. Rhys’ back bent forward, but the onslaught was not against his body. Jack was in his head, in his thoughts. His mind was rebelling defensively against the submission, but once it passed, Rhys understood—  _ everything.  _

Their consciousness merging should have been enough to ease the tension, to soothe both of their troubled souls, but it was only a bandage on a deeper need. 

The corner of his mouth ticked up, sad but trying, as Rhys met Jack’s unwavering gaze. Instead of blue light filling his senses, it was gold, but the change hardly registered because Jack wanted something more than this. 

He wanted it so badly that Rhys wondered at how he had not felt it before now. He could  _ feel _ how much Jack wanted to touch him. 

If Rhys could, he would have gotten rid of the scar for Jack’s sake. But it had never occurred to Rhys to  _ dislike _ him for it.

“You know that has never mattered to me, right?”

“I do now.”

_______________________________________________________________________________

Weapons were Hyperion’s bread and butter. 

It made no sense for Atlas to approach that market until Rhys came up with something genuinely worthwhile. At least Jack had crippled Atlas, not gutted them, so when Rhys took over, he still had plenty to work with. Namely, a small team of R&D scientists that had stuck around after the collapse to do whatever research they wanted. Rhys had simply funneled money into their projects, and security and defense, naturally, and directed the growth appropriately. 

Most of that was thanks to Dr. Penelope Raesler. She had dark skin and bright eyes and a knack for cybernetics that was almost uncanny. It had taken some convincing on Rhys’ end, but with her leading the project, a clone was ready within two months instead of the initially projected four.

Jack had the original team airlocked.

And the way Jack was currently glaring at Rhys made him lowkey worry he would be next. 

“It’s right there,” Rhys said, gesturing toward the mask where it was resting on the table next to him. 

“Oh good, you found it!” Jack said, sounding pleasantly sarcastic. “Now, where does it go?”

Raesler had spent enough time with Rhys while he had conversations with Jack like this, so it did not even phase her when he started bickering with thin air. She just continued on checking vitals and running a final cyberware test. Once she was satisfied, she hooked one end of the cable into the clone’s port where it was hidden by dark hair. Then Raesler looked at Rhys, eyebrows raised. 

“Is there a problem?”

Rhys shot her an apologetic look. “Just let me have this,” he said to Jack.

His expression tensed briefly. “Rhys, don’t. This is different than those pretty tattoos of yours.”

“It’s still something I never trusted anyone with, so I think I can understand where you’re coming from.” 

Jack stood frozen for several seconds. Rhys could feel him waver.

Then he gave a sharp sigh, and his expression shifted from unrelenting to displeased resignation. “Fine,” Jack clipped.

“There’s no problem,” Rhys said. 

“All right. Good.” Raesler nodded sharply. “Then, here you go.” 

Rhys accepted the cable. “Thanks, Pen.”

“You should sit down for this,” she said. “Just in case. You two have been merged for a while now, and the separation, gradual as it will be like this, still has the potential to be disorienting.” 

Rhys did as suggested and hesitated slightly.

“It’ll be fine,” Jack murmured, “I feel it too.” 

The corner of Rhys’ mouth quirked up wistfully. “I know, but that doesn’t make this any easier,” he said, then clicked the cable in. 

A warning popped up on his HUD:  _ H-J4CK, allow access to all systems— yes/no? _

Rhys closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and selected yes.

It was as though a line had been drawn in his head, a bright, burning line, and Rhys realized that his mind was his own. There were only his thoughts and feelings and memories— but the connection between them was not diminished. It was just like looking at Jack’s consciousness through a window. 

Raesler flashed him a smile before leaving the room. 

Rhys stood, studied Jack for a moment. The real Jack and the ridged blue Vault symbol branded into his face. Then pressed the hypo into his shoulder. 

Tension shot through Jack’s entire body as soon as he was conscious. His eyes snapped open, but he turned his face away. Rhys sat on the edge of the bed and could not help reaching a hand up slowly, expecting to be slapped away or stopped. 

But he wasn’t. 

Even then, Rhys moved cautiously, feeling the jut of his cheekbone before palming the shape of his face. His thumb settled into a sunken patch of the scar as he drew Jack back to him. 

Jack had refused an artificial eye to replace the one that was blind and milky white, but it did not bother Rhys. None of it did. So, he met Jack’s sharp blue gaze calmly and let him reassure himself. 

Given the disconnect between them, it took a few seconds, but eventually, the tension around his eyes and the way his jaw was set eased. Then Jack shifted, quite unexpectedly, and kissed him. 

A minute passed, then another, and Jack showed no signs of slowing down. His tongue pushed in slow and deep. A pleased sound rumbled into Rhys’ mouth, and when he replied in kind, Jack bit him. That small flash of pain was surprisingly welcome. Soon, Rhys was panting, losing himself in heat and lust.

When Jack finally pulled back, for a few seconds, all Rhys felt was frustration, but then he said: “See, that wasn’t so terrible, was it?”

Jack smirked and brushed his fingers against Rhys’ tattoos. 

Rhys had only stopped hiding them entirely because of Jack. He liked them, and he was right; they looked different from the others’ flowing, swirling patterns.

“Give yourself some credit, kitten,” Jack said, then dragged Rhys into his arms and leaned back. He didn’t know how Jack could be comfortable with his cybernetic arm jabbing into him, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

And a minute later, when Jack popped the cable out of Rhys’ port, he didn’t seem to mind that either. Neither did Rhys, in fact, because it did not feel anything like being separated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.... that got really soft, didn’t it lol.


	3. Even in my dark side.

Was this inevitable? Or had he caused it? If Rhys hadn’t, would there have been some other trigger for Jack’s return? Or would he still be ruling side by side with Jack’s consciousness broken down into beautifully arranged lines of code?

He didn’t know.

He could only wonder.

Not that Rhys honestly cared. He had told Katagawa the truth. That he was  _ exactly _ where he wanted to be. Even more so now than Rhys had been back then. 

Admittedly, he missed parts of it. How Jack’s code had integrated with Rhys’ mind in a way that was so absolute that the prospect of getting him out had felt self-destructive. 

It could have eroded the understanding they had discovered in each other, the sense of security Rhys found in Jack.

It could have poisoned the future.

But it didn’t. Well, not their future, at least.

Katagawa met Rhys’s gaze. He looked like he was finally realizing the full extent of the situation in which he found himself. Probably because Jack was closing in on him again, and the only evidence Katagawa had been beaten within an inch of his life was the blood streaked down his face and shirt.

As his tattoos went dark, Rhys winked. 

Then Jack started again. 

By the time he decided he had more accurately gotten his point across, Katagawa was slumped down in the chair with his head hanging forward. Dark blood dripped into his lap in thick, coagulated strands. It was not even apparent if he was breathing anymore. 

Jack rolled his neck so that it cracked, then grabbed a fistful of hair to lift Katagawa’s head. He slapped his cheek a few times. 

“Hey. Dipshit.”

Katagawa pried a swollen eye open, and Jack flashed him a smile. The razor-sharp one that held the promise of unpleasant things within it. 

“You doing alright?” 

He tried to reply, but all that came out was a gurgling, wet sound. 

“Perfect,” Jack said, releasing him. Katagawa’s head lolled to the side for a moment before he managed to raise it on his own.

“Like I said, we will keep doing this until what Rhys here had been trying to tell you back on Helios all those years ago fiiiinally clicks.”

Katagawa swallowed. Even now, a smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Come on, Jack. I get it,” he rasped. “It’s cute, what you’re doing. I mean, if I had known what I literally had under my fingertips that day, I—”

Jack shot him in the mouth. Blood splashed across the wall.

As retro as hollow-point ammunition was, the real draw, for Jack, was its maximum stopping power. It was instantly lethal, tearing a hole through whatever it hit. 

Terry was going to need more than just a mop. 

“Wrong answer, asshole,” Jack muttered. “No one touches what’s mine.” 

Rhys did not bother battling the arousal that started moving through him at that. 

He knew now how true those words were. He had felt it,  _ lived  _ it even when their consciousnesses were merged. Jack had done everything in his power to seal his loyalty, to have him, to make sure Rhys was  _ his  _ in every way. 

And he was— happily. 

Jack was breathing harder than usual. His muscles tense, and every tendon in his forearms visible. Blood was lashed across his skin and shirt. 

After giving Jack a moment to come back to himself a little, Rhys pushed off the wall. Anyone else approaching him in this state would be liable to meet the same end, but Rhys knew Jack would not hurt him. He trusted that as much as he trusted Jack himself. 

Jack’s eyes snapped to his at the movement, pupils still dilated; fine droplets of blood bespeckled one side of his jaw. Instantly, his expression eased, but there remained a cold satisfaction in Jack’s gaze.

He reholstered his sidearm and wiped his face off on his shoulder— all that accomplished was smearing orange across his cheek. Jack frowned, then spit. 

“Ugh. I think I got some of him in my mouth.”

Rhys could not stop himself from smiling. “Yeah, okay, that is unfortunate, but surely you saw that coming. It’s not like this is the first person you’ve ever executed like that.”

Jack hummed and looked down at himself. “I need a shower,” he replied absently. “And some goddamn mouthwash.” 

“Maybe some dinner too? Sushi sounds good.”

“That sounds perfect. I’m frickin’ starving.”

Which, Rhys did not doubt. Knowing Jack, he had been running off of caffeine and anger over the past several weeks. 

“I’ll have some sent up,” Rhys told him. “It shouldn’t take me long to deal with the rest of this.”

Jack’s hand twitched forward slightly before he curled it into a fist. “You going to let Blue have some fun?”

Rhys glanced down at the movement. “Yeah, she deserves it. Do you want me to do something about that?” 

It was not just Katagawa’s blood staining Jack’s hands. His knuckles were split open, and one wound was so deep and ragged looking Rhys was confident it would scar.

“What do you think, sunshine?” Jack murmured, then shifted toward Rhys. Their bodies were almost touching, but that was where it would stop. It was apparent Jack had no interest in ever letting Katagawa touch him again. Even like this. Not that Rhys minded per se. He liked the implications behind it. He also liked this shirt. 

Rhys, who had expected as much, merely raised an eyebrow and took a step back toward the door. “Considering how pissed you were, I think it doesn’t hurt to make sure you get what you want out of this.” 

“Don’t fret that pretty head of yours. I appreciate what you were doing. I mean, this is hands down the best gift you’ve ever given me. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a nice little souvenir to remember it by.”

They exited into the hall, where a handful of Hyperion-Atlas soldiers standing watch snapped to attention at their appearance. 

“I’m sorry it’s nothing fancy.” 

“So you say,” Jack replied loftily. 

Rhys’ crew, the people he trusted to run things on Promethea in their absence, intercepted them just outside the command center door.

“Awe, Jack. I’m sorry the talks fell through,” Lorelei said, and Zer0 flashed a heartfelt **D:** emoji. “I think I speak for us all when I say we were looking forward to becoming a part of the Maliwan family just as much as you were to see us go.”

“I know, right?” Jack said. “Fucking depressing.”

“You did your best,” she concluded. “Do you know what will make you feel better? Playing with Rhys’ laser. Well. Technically it’s yours too, but hey! You haven’t seen it for a bit, so I’m sure you’ll have some fun firing it off a time or two.” 

Patrick glanced down at some ECHO activity on his holo-tablet and let out a disappointed sigh; Rhys snorted.

“That sounds like an excellent suggestion,” Jack said, eyes sliding to meet Rhys’. The darkness was still there, but it had shifted. It was the kind sparked with heat that Rhys craved.

What outsiders continuously failed to recognize was that Rhys was far more than just a useful tool.

That Jack  _ wanted _ him too.

“Shower first, though,” Jack said decisively. “Wouldn’t want to get the controls all dirty.” Then he strode off toward the elevator.

“He really is just so considerate with his belongings,” Lorelei said. “It’s funny how Katagawa couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t really have a head anymore because of that,” Rhys said.

“He did not appear to be using it anyway,” Patrick put in, sounding bored. 

A **LOL** , then a **RIP** popped up in rapid succession on Zer0’s faceplate. 

“Shall we wrap this up then?” 

“Yeah,” Rhys said. “I let this drag on long enough.”

Patrick shrugged. “With reason.” 

Much to Lorelei’s, and Jack’s, displeasure, Rhys had insisted they make it seem like he was gradually losing footing in this war. Given the purpose of all this was to break Atlas off from Hyperion and shift Rhys’ allegiance over to Maliwan, curating a false sense of victory was an easier and faster approach to bringing this to an official close. Plus, like, Jack was patient, but not  _ that _ patient. 

Luring Katataga into a trap versus capturing him outright had not been the most classy move, but it was not very often Rhys had the opportunity to do something like this for Jack. Give him control over something he previously did not so Jack could get out all of his frustrations and mentally right a wrong. 

It was not like Lorelei wouldn’t get her payback too. By the time Rhys was headed up to the penthouse, his people had picked up where they had left off. Each of them doing what they did best. Zer0, off to assassinate people, no doubt. Patrick, who ran operations here, had been visibly relieved to finally be able to get back to work, and Lorelei had broken the ceasefire without warning. 

Another volley of blasts cracked through the sky as Rhys draped his vest over a chair on the way to the kitchen. Jack was leaning against the center island halfway through the sushi feast Rhys had ordered, wearing sweats and a t-shirt. No mask. He looked— normal, as if this had been any other day together. 

Jack’s gaze lifted, the one dead eye and the other a blue sharp enough to cut locked onto Rhys, and he smiled. It was the most genuine smile Rhys had seen from him since all this started. 

“Looks like she’s having a lot of fun.” Jack pointed at the window with his fork. A Maliwan dreadnaught was trying its damndest to get out of the atmosphere while taking heavy fire. 

“Not too much though.” Rhys began rummaging around for a pair of chopsticks. He was pretty sure Jack hid them all again, just to be ‘cute.’

“I want the ship carrying Katagawa back to his parents to get out of the sector without a scratch. I mean, whether he killed all his siblings or not, it’s only right to make sure he gets home.”

“Oh, man,” Jack said. “Rip those guys. Do they know?”

“Definitely. I patched in a call to their Commander to tell him myself. You would have loved the look on his face.” Rhys paused for a second, considering. “Actually, knowing Lorelei, there’s probably a recording of it.”

“You’re a freaking gem. Come here.” Jack plucked the chopsticks Rhys had  _ just _ found out of his hand and tossed them over his shoulder. Then pulled him in for a kiss. 

Jack’s tongue was slow and gentle in Rhys’ mouth. The ridge of Jack’s scar brushed against his lips in a familiar way he had missed, and Rhys sighed.

Usually, Jack came out to Promethea with him, so it was more than a little suspicious Katagawa’s invasion had occurred while he was planetside on his own for a few days. But Rhys handled it. And that Jack had trusted him enough to  _ wait  _ until Rhys was ready for him to get involved. Well… Rhys did not bother trying to mentally articulate any of it.

Only slipped his hands underneath Jack’s shirt, following the contours of muscle up towards his shoulders as Jack hemmed him in against the counter. His cock was hard, pressing against his own. 

Then Jack was pulling away, and Rhys let out a noise of complaint.

“Easy, sweetness. I just need a second.” 

Jack discarded his shirt, then he was back to kissing Rhys firmly. Tongue sliding into his mouth, exploring slowly. But Jack left enough room between them for him to work at Rhys’ clothing. 

He was shrugging off his shirt when Jack unzipped his slacks and pulled out his cock. Jack settled against him again, and Rhys gasped. Jack was like a furnace; he just ran hot. Rhys wrapped both arms around him and held him tightly as Jack rocked into him. 

Their kisses devolved into smearing lips and heavy breathing. Jack continued rubbing himself against Rhys and the warm precome that slicked them both. This would not be enough to get either of them off. But after so much time apart, it would be worth dragging out as long as possible. It would be worth the wait. 

Large fingers slid around his neck, palm resting hot against Rhys’ throat before mapping the shape of his tattoos by memory. 

“I wish you could still feel it, what I think when I look at you,” Jack said against Rhys’ mouth, the fervency in his voice making him shiver. 

Jack pulled away and curled down, bringing his face to Rhys’ neck. Teeth grazed across the dark circles there and then bit down hard. Rhys sucked in a breath and tried to pull Jack closer, but then Jack’s lips pressed against his again. Gentler this time, but still intense and compelling. 

His hand shifted until it was on Rhys’ hip. Then trailing down and fingers ran along his cock as if feeling the hardness of him. Rhys sighed, a pleased sound, as Jack curled his hand around him and began to stroke him.

“Do you know what else I want?”

Rhys shook his head slightly, knowing that Jack would feel the motion of it with their faces so close together.

“I wanted to hook in and fuck you until you couldn’t see straight,” Jack said, his voice rougher than before. “But right now, I just want to own you.”

“You know you already do,” Rhys breathed. 

A smile pressed into his skin. 

Then Jack sank to his knees, lips wrapping around the head of his cock. 

The swiftness of the action stunned Rhys for the space of a single breath. Then he moaned as Jack kept going, taking the entire shaft until his lips met the fingers he had curled around Rhys’ length. He closed his eyes and sank into the feeling, his world rapidly narrowing to Jack— just like he wanted. 

Jack began to suck him in a slow, steady rhythm. The drag and catch of his tongue snagged Rhys’ breath and coaxed a never-ending stream of moans from his lips, which seemed entirely too loud in the absence of Jack talking to him. But Rhys knew Jack enjoyed it, so he let himself keep making them, especially since Jack was touching himself. 

Rhys wished he would watch, but he knew he would not be able to focus on it anyway. Unable to pull his gaze away from how the scar distorted Jack’s mouth around him. 

His hand came to rest gently on the top of Jack’s head, fingers twining pleasantly in his hair. Then Jack scraped his teeth across the head of his cock, and Rhys’ mind went blank. His breath got caught on a gasp, and Jack chose that moment to take Rhys back into his mouth.

For a few seconds, Rhys thought he would come, right then, but the pain and pleasure receded, and instead, Rhys was just hard and desperate and panting. Gripping the edge of the countertop with his prosthetic and trying to get his bearings.

Rhys unknotted his hand from Jack’s hair and petted it a moment. Watching the grey streak slip through his fingers. 

“I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

“Good,” Jack said, then kissed the tip, lightly sucking. “I want to make you come.”

“Likewise,” Rhys breathed and pulled Jack off of him. 

He was careful about it though, and Jack did not protest. Rhys knew he wouldn’t. Not once Jack noticed his tattoos lit up. 

The pad of his human thumb brushed over a sunken patch of Jack’s scar as Rhys tilted his face up slightly. Jack looked debauched with his lips swollen and his hair all mussed. Rhys’ head swam with the power that came with being able to do this to  _ Handsome Jack.  _

The unbridled desire on his face and the way his shoulder moved with each stroke— Rhys tightened his metal fingers around his own cock and moaned.

“Yeah, that’s it. Let me see you too.” 

Rhys obliged and unfurled his wings. Mainly because it was only with Jack that he felt truly indestructible. 

_ “Fuck.”  _ Jack’s breath gusted across the sensitive skin. 

“God, Jack. I’m—”

“Do it for me,” Jack instructed, breathing raggedly. “Come on, kitten. Do it for me, just like you do everything.” 

Coming like this felt different. It concentrated in his spine. 

Everything seemed to disappear around him. Nothing but pure sensation was left. His head was light, and his arm felt tingly, and the universe contracted down to his cock for a long moment. And then it all expanded out again with incredible intensity.

There were a few moments of heavy breathing from both of them before Rhys managed to reopen his eyes.

Jack smirked lazily as he reached up to wipe his face off. Which was… dripping a bit. 

“Unlike that asshat, I’d rather have you in my mouth tha—”

It took Rhys a second to process what he was seeing, but once he did, he slapped Jack’s hand away desperately.

“What the fuck, Rhys.”

“No, just—” With his prosthetic, he grabbed Jack’s wrist to  _ stop him, _ and began to smear— his come (Jesus-fucking-Christ why did it have to be this of all things) across Jack’s cheek. 

Jack tried to jerk away, and Rhys’ grip turned bruising to hold him still.

“Just stop,” he said. “It’s doing something to your scar.”

Instantaneously, Jack froze but said nothing. 

Rhys’ face was hot with embarrassment as he resumed quickly swiping it along the scar, watching the blue fade and skin close over where it had been. Then without warning, Rhys wiped his hand off on Jack’s eye. He figured it’d be easier that way— for both of them. 

Jack hissed and flinched back. In the following seconds, Rhys put his dick away and hoped, rather desperately, that it was actually possible to die of mortification. When he didn’t, unfortunately, Rhys managed to glance down again.

Jack was staring at him with his stunning blue and green gaze as though he couldn’t look away. His scar, his eye— if it weren’t for the difference in skin tone and the clasps demarking the edges of the mask, it would have been as if Jack had never been marred. Never needed the mask in the first place. 

Finally, Jack’s mouth formed some words. “Do I— leave it there or wash it off?”

Rhys flicked a glare at him before turning away. 

“Wait, I’m just—  _ Rhys.”  _

Jack hauled himself to his feet, but once it became clear Rhys was not going to leave the room after all, he went over to the sink. When finished, Rhys was genuinely surprised that the first thing Jack did was rush back over to him, and not a mirror. 

“Hey, you alright?” Jack asked, thumb tracing his cheekbone. 

Rhys could only nod, trying not to look at him.

It hurt— to look at him.

“I wasn’t trying to give you shit.” 

“I know,” Rhys said, shifting his weight, uncomfortable with the attention.

Jack’s other hand came up to frame his face. Fingertips lightly stroked his cheek. 

“Sunshine. Look at me,” Jack said, and when Rhys did, the corner of Jack’s mouth quirked into a smile that had only ever been for him. “Like I was saying, magic healing Siren jizz aside, I still would have rather had it in my mouth.” 

Despite himself, Rhys was unable to resist a smile, and Jack grinned triumphantly. 

“You’re an asshole,” Rhys told him.

Jack rolled his eyes and tugged Rhys close. Arms wrapped possessively around him as though Jack were keeping him from being stolen.

“Yeah,” he said. “But I’m your asshole, and I get it. What’s really wrong here. I do. But there’s still plenty between us. This doesn’t change anything.”

It took a few months for what Jack was saying to sink in all the way. 

The metal grafted into his skin had just been removed. They were sitting on the sofa in the reading nook, their knees brushing together. Rhys was healing the wounds left behind from the procedure when Jack’s secretary waltzed in without warning. The man froze like a deer in headlights, eyes locked onto Rhys.

Without hesitation, Jack shot him. He didn’t stop to ask questions; didn’t bother to check if he had actually seen anything or was just surprised to find them there so late in the evening. 

“Shame. I liked that one,” Jack said, then dropped a quick kiss on Rhys’ mouth. 

After a beat, Rhys shrugged and continued on.

The words had never been exchanged between them. There had never been a reason to. Not when they knew it without a doubt. He and Jack went hand-in-hand. Rhys had known who he was, and he saved Jack anyway. 

Love was not as pretty or pure as people liked to believe. There was a darkness in it. One that Rhys could not imagine living without. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen. I like Katagawa, but Rhack is my OTP. 😎

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading ♥️


End file.
